


Relapse

by inthrall



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bondage and Discipline, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Gags, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, hints of pining tuckington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthrall/pseuds/inthrall
Summary: Two months is a long time to wait, but standing here in his living room with Washington wrapped around him, kissing Locus as if his very life depends on it—Well. Locus has certainly waited for worse things.





	Relapse

**Author's Note:**

> hello it's pwp time
> 
> this was inspired in part by [sleeping with the enemy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10993188/chapters/24484812) by [pippen2112](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112), which is a delightful fic that i highly recommend. i was intrigued by the nature of wash and locus's relationship in that fic, particularly the nature of their sexual relationship, which is hinted at in a simply delicious little scene. i've got a whole fucking AU planned for this verse in my head, so if you'd like to see more of it, don't be shy. if you are just here for the smut, that's cool too. i don't think this fic quite warrants the noncon tag but it is HEAVILY in the dub con territory, so err on the side of caution.

Two months is a long time to wait, but standing here in his living room with Washington wrapped around him, kissing Locus as if his very life depends on it—

_Well_. Locus has certainly waited for worse things.

Two months. Two long months since Washington had broken things off with him, had texted him that he _couldn’t do this anymore_ after refusing to move in with him _._ Two months of Washington avoiding his phone calls and e-mails, two months without Washington’s mouth on his cock and body writhing underneath his own. Two months without Washington being _his_ , and his alone.

Two months, and all it had taken was a coincidental run-in in the parking lot of the gym where Washington works out. A casual conversation that turned into a more intense one as they’d ducked into a nearby alleyway, to try to make peace. Washington had barely resisted when Locus had moved forward to press him against the brick wall, his mouth opening almost immediately for Locus with a hungry moan. It had been embarrassingly easy, to turn Washington into a desperate, pliant mess against that brick wall, moaning against the hand that Locus had pressed to his mouth to keep him quiet. He’d waited until Washington was good and hard before asking if he’d wanted to go back to his apartment, for old time’s sake, and Washington had hesitated before Locus had smirked and told him that he’d allow Washington to do whatever he wanted.

That was all it took. He so rarely gave Washington control during sex, and the curiosity in Washington’s eyes at those words was undeniable. A few well-chosen words, several careful kisses bitten into Washington’s collarbone, and a well-timed run in, and Washington was his again, if only for a little while.

And if the run in wasn’t quite coincidental, well—

It isn’t as if anyone could prove that, now could they?

It doesn’t matter anyway, now that they’re back at Locus’s apartment, as Washington plunges his hands into Locus’s hair and _pulls_ , sucking at his bottom lip. Locus reaches down to squeeze his ass, tugging him closer still, and Washington goes willingly. Washington’s mouth is moving hungrily, from Locus’s own mouth, to his ear, to his neck, as if he can’t decide which part he wants to taste first.

Washington pushes him back until they hit the couch, never breaking their kisses as he straddles Locus. Locus smirks against his mouth, hands resting casually on Washington's hips as he settles back against the pillows. Normally he prefers to be the one in control, the one to break Washington, but he is breaking into pieces now all the same. There's a franticness to the way he kisses Locus, a desperation to the way he mouths at his neck, a helplessness in the way he's rolling his hips. He's hard again, cock bumping occasionally against Locus's stomach.

Washington's hands slip under Locus's shirt and Locus helps him pull it off. Washington can't hide the lust on his face as his eyes flick down Locus's bare chest, palms dragging over his shoulders, and he leans back in to kiss Locus. Locus allows Washington to push his shoulders down so that Locus is lying on the touch, to lay his body on top of his. Washington grinds their cocks together purposefully, sucking at Locus's neck, a single-minded focus to his movements that Locus relishes.

Locus watches as Washington's mouth begins to travel down his body, tongue lapping at his abs. He flicks his eyes up at Locus, pressing kisses just above the waistband of his pants as Locus threads a hand into his hair. Waiting, Locus knows, for permission, but Locus will not grant him that today. He wants Washington to do what _he_ wants, at least for now.

Sure enough, Wash fumbles with the button on Locus's jeans, drawing out his cock. Washington sucks him into his mouth at once, a helpless moan of relief escaping. His cheeks redden as his eyes flick up at Locus, and Locus smirks down at him, winding his hand tighter in Washington's hair. He relaxes into the sensations, Washington’s throat clenching around his cock, Washington’s hands clutching at his thighs. Washington has always been good at taking Locus’s length, and Locus would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed the sight of Washington’s lips stretched wide around the very base of him.

After a while, Washington pulls off of him, looking up at Locus again. "Can I...."

Locus tilts his head, stroking Washington's cheek with the back of his hand. Wash mouths at his cock once more, pressing small kisses to the side, and Locus gives an impatient tug to his hair. "Either tell me what you want or put your mouth back where it belongs, Washington."

Washington whines a little, his hips still rocking down slowly into the couch. He swallows hard. "Can I...I want to ride you...."

Locus hums in approval, giving Wash a harsh tug back up to press their mouths together. "Certainly," Locus whispers. "I know how much you enjoy that."

Washington flushes, but he can't deny it, not when he's draped across Locus, cock hard and grinding against Locus's own, not when he moans as Locus sucks briefly at his neck. He blinks, startled, when Locus pushes him away. "Go get what you need."

He watches in approval as Washington stands, shedding all of his clothing at once, and fumbles in the pull-out drawer of the table next to the couch, searching for the tiny bottle of lube. He swallows, looking at Locus as he holds the bottle out. "Will you? Please?"

Locus smiles, taking the lube from him. "Come. As you were."

Washington climbs naked back on top of him, laying his body flush across Locus's. He watches hungrily as Locus coats his fingers, eyes squeezing shut as Locus drags them up in between his ass cheeks. "Oh, _god_...."

Locus circles his asshole a few times before inserting a finger and Wash groans, burying his head in the crook of Locus's shoulder. Locus runs his other hand up and down the length of Washington's spine, relishing the feel of Wash's muscles melting underneath his palm. By the time he's three fingers deep, Wash is shuddering against him, whining steady in the back of his throat.

Locus removes his fingers, giving Washington's ass a quick slap. "Are you ready?"

"God yes," he gasps. Washington lifts his head, pushing himself to a sit. He grabs Locus's cock by the base, lining himself up with it, settling Locus’s cock securing between his ass cheeks.

Washington moans as he sinks down onto Locus, eyelashes fluttering. He remains there for a moment, panting up at the ceiling, hands pressed to Locus's chest, until Locus give an impatient jerk of his hips and Washington cries out. "S-sorry," he gasps, beginning to rock slowly "Oh, _fffuck_...."

Locus grunts as Washington adjusts and begin to ride his cock with greater intention, speeding up until he's bouncing in Locus's lap. He's still moaning up at the ceiling, and Locus grips his hips tightly. Washington's body is drenched in sweat, muscles taut, cock hard and bobbing obscenely in between them. Beautiful, even more so now that he has lost control.

He leans down to kiss Locus messily, sucking hungrily at his bottom lip, his neck, his chest. Locus watches as Washington's eyes rove over him, his hands dragging along every inch of Locus's flesh. It is rare that Locus allows him this freedom, allows Washington to even touch him without permission, normally preferring to bind Washington's wrists to better control him. He's enjoying this, though, enjoying it very much: Washington rocking in his lap, whimpering as he leans forward and attempts to grind his own cock against Locus's abs, full of a growing desperation that only Locus can sate.

Washington sits back up clumsily, finally wrapping a hand around his cock to jerk himself off. Locus does not stop him, and when Washington grunts and guides one of Locus's hands to his cock instead, he lets him, tightening his grip and helping to jerk him off. 

The relief on Washington's face is obvious, and he leans forward heavily, palms pressed once more to Locus's chest. Giving himself up to Locus, even now, when Locus has allowed him control. Locus shoves his own hips up harder as he feels the pressure beginning to build low in his gut, and Washington moves faster, dropping down hard back into his lap to meet each one of Locus's thrusts.

Locus comes with a groan, the hand still on Washington's hip digging bruises into his flesh. Washington is watching his face-- pleased with himself, Locus thinks--but soon Washington's brow furrows as he speeds up even further, chasing his own release before Locus is no longer hard.

Locus continues thrusting throughout the duration of his orgasm, chasing the last bits of his pleasure. Eventually, the pumping of his hips slows, hand loosening ever so slightly on Washington's cock. A crazed whimper escapes from between Washington's teeth, his movements growing desperate. "No...fuck, I'm...I'm so close...just a little more…"

Washington wraps his own hand around Locus's, trying to urge him along, but it's too late. He groans as he feels Locus growing soft inside him, and eventually has no choice but to lift his hips and let Locus slide out. Locus's removes his hand from Washington's dick entirely, and Washington curses, leaning down to grind against Locus's stomach once more. "Come on," he whines into Locus’s ear, "come on, I'm _so_ close, fuck, I just wanna come.."

"I know," Locus whispers sympathetically, but he makes no move to touch Washington. "This must be frustrating for you. You wanted to find your release with my cock inside of you, didn't you? It’s been such a long time…a pity, that you will not be able to enjoy that now."

Washington lets out a noise that's almost a sob as he sits up, wrapping a hand around his cock. " _Fuck_ you," he says desperately. "Fuck you--"

A surge of anger sweeps through Locus at Washington’s words, at his _defiance_ , and he sits up at once, causing Washington to topple backwards slightly. Locus grabs him by the hair as he stands, shoving Washington face forward into the couch. Washington makes a muffled noise of protest, trying to sit back up, but Locus settles his weight on his hips, one hand keeping him pressed into the couch while the other fumbles with his discarded belt.

Washington begins to struggle as he feels Locus grab one of his arms, but it's too late. In a matter of moments, he has Washington's wrists bound tightly at the small of his back. Locus stands, yanking Washington's hips up into the air so that he can't grind down against the couch, and folds his arms across his chest. "Look at me."

Washington turns his head to face him, panting as he struggles with his bonds. "Oh, shit," he groans. His hips are rocking unconsciously forward, still seeking release. "Oh, _fuck_....."

"That's right," Locus says. "You know you're about to be punished, don't you?"

When Washington doesn't answer, Locus winds a hand in his hair, yanking his head back painfully. "I _said_ , don't you?"

"Yes," Washington gasps out, the lines of his neck stretched long. "Yes...."

"And you know you deserve it, isn’t that right?"

There are several long seconds during which Washington continues to struggle, before he wilts, head growing heavy in Locus's hand. "Y-yes."

Locus smiles, but keeps his hand fisted tightly in Washington's hair. "I allow you the freedom," he says softly, "to do as you please, and this is how you choose to act?"

Washington squirms, his eyes sliding away as he is unable to meet Locus's gaze. "I just-I was so close, god, I want to come, I-"

"Silence," Locus growls, jerking his head back again, and Washington quiets. "I am disappointed in you, Washington. Making demands, cursing- that's not how you get what you want. Is it? Answer me."

"No..."

"And how do you get what you want? _Look at me_ when I ask you a question."

Washington's eyes flick up to his once more, and he swallows hard. "I...I say please."

Locus smiles, rewarding him with a stroke to his hair. Washington sighs, pressing into his hand. "Do you see how easy it is?" Locus says quietly. "A simple please, and you would've been granted your release. But you insisted on being stubborn, trying to pretend you don't want this, and...now look at you."

He brushes his other hand down Washington's spine, between his ass cheeks to press a finger briefly inside where he's still open. Washington jerks his hips back with a shout, but Locus doesn't linger just continue to drag his palm across Washington's balls, and wipe briefly at his cock. Washington shouts again, trying to grind against him, but Locus removes his hand and rests it casually on his ass. "And now look at you," he says again. "You're a mess, Washington. Perhaps I should leave you here."

Washington lets out a noise of protest, squirming in his grip. "No, don't- please. Please don't, Locus, I'll be good, I swear, I _swear_ , just-"

"Silence," Locus snaps, and Washington quiets. "Now. What to do with you."

Washington knows better than to answer, and Locus lets him squirm for a while, enough time for him to imagine every possible scenario—the punishments he revels in, and the ones he dreads. Locus takes the time to remove the condom from his own dick and clean himself off, and when he turns back, Washington is watching him.

“It would serve you right,” he says quietly, “if I left you here, like this, all night. Restrained and unable to find your release, and gagged so I don’t have to listen to you cry for it. What do you think of that, Washington?”

Washington lets out a panicked noise, shaking his head against the couch. “No—Locus, please, not that again, please…”

Locus smiles at the memory, of the last time Washington had misbehaved enough to warrant that punishment. He’d kept Washington tied spread-eagle to his bed for hours and hours as he went about his day, occasionally returning to the bedroom to ensure that Washington remained on edge. He had not granted Washington his release that day, although he had begged for it so much that Locus eventually had to gag him, but it had an effective punishment: Washington had been on his best behavior for weeks.

“Please,” Washington is saying now, “please don’t do that, please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you—“

“Shhh,” Locus whispers. He gets down on one knee, brushing Washington’s sweaty hair off his forehead and pressing a kiss there. “Shhh. I haven’t decided to do that… _yet_. I will consider allowing you to come, if you are very good, Washington.”

“I will be,” Washington says frantically, “I will, I swear, _god_ —“

“Be quiet,” Locus snaps. “Be quiet and stay put. If I find you’ve moved from this spot when I return, you will regret it. Understood?”

“Yes.”

Locus presses another kiss to his temple, mouth moving to Washington’s ear. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Another kiss. “Good boy.”

He takes his time fetching the toys he needs, and fetches himself a drink of water in the kitchen as well. When he returns, Washington is exactly as he left him on the couch: chest pressed into the cushions, hips up in the air and rocking slowly forward and backward, grinding against nothing. His eyes track Locus’s movements as he lays everything out neatly: a blindfold, a ball gag, a flogger and a thick, green vibrator. He does not intend to use all of them, but it is usually best to prepare Washington for anything. Washington begins to squirm as Locus lubes up the vibrator, but stills his movements when Locus eyes him sternly.

“You haven’t been good lately, Washington,” Locus says, as he coats the vibrator. “You have forgotten who you belonged to. But you found yourself back here soon enough, as I knew you would.”

He positions himself behind Washington on the couch, kneeling between his spread legs. “You’ve been craving this,” he says softly. “Haven’t you?”

Locus drags the vibrator up between his ass cheeks, and Washington jumps. “Y-yes…”

Locus presses it forward, the barest amount of pressure against his hole. “Did you think of me when you touched yourself, Washington? Answer honestly, or you don’t get to come.”

“Yes,” Washington gasps. He tries to bear backwards, but Locus pulls the toy out of reach. “Yes, sir.”

“I thought as much,” Locus says with a chuckle. He presses the vibrator in further this time. “What did you think about?”

He holds the toy steady, and allows Washington to push back against it this time. “You,” he groans.. “Just… _you_ …”

“Specifics, Washington.” Locus pulls the toy back out momentarily, and Washington gets the point.

“You fucking me,” he says in a rush, and Locus pushes the vibrator back inside of him. This time, Washington begins to fuck himself onto it in earnest, hips rolling back and forth to take all of it in. “Fuck—shit, just—you, you _fucking_ me, your cock—your cock in my mouth..."

“You couldn’t stay away,” Locus agrees. He presses the vibrator fully inside Washington, and reaches for the remote. “But I knew you would be back….and here you are.”

He turns it on and Washington cries out, writhing against the cushions. Locus takes a moment to admire him before grabbing the base of the vibrator, and beginning to work it slowly in and out of him. “Do you like that, Washington?”

“Yes, yes,” Washington babbles. “Yes…. _god_ , please don’t stop, please….”

Locus indulges him with a few more slow thrusts before burying the vibrator in Washington’s ass once more and leaving it there. “Count, Washington,” is all he says, before he brings his hand down hard on the top of his ass.

Washington yelps, pressing his forehead into the couch as he tries to gather himself. “O-one.”

Another smack in the same spot, harder this time. “Two….”

By the time he gets to five, Washington is keening in the back of his throat, simultaneously trying to squirm away and press into the strikes. Locus keeps going, making sure to pay attention to both ass cheeks, varying up the pacing and location of his strikes so that Washington doesn’t know where the next one is coming. He’s moaning out the numbers now, hips bucking erratically, but he’s taking his punishment, and taking it well. A pleasant surprise.

Locus is just raising his hand to deliver number eleven when there’s a sudden burst of music. Washington freezes at once, eyes snapping towards his discarded jeans. His cell phone, Locus realizes.

“Unfortunate,” Locus says, leaning down to turn the phone off. “I would’ve thought you’d have the foresight to turn your volume off—“

He pauses as he turns the phone over, revealing the name of the caller. A mixture of anger and jealously begins to simmer low in his gut at the sight of the name, his eyes narrowing.

_Lavernius Tucker._

Locus yanks Washington’s head around to look at the screen. “Did you tell him where you were?”

Washington’s eyes widen as he looks, before he shakes his head frantically. “No—no, I _swear_ —“

Locus scoffs, making to toss the phone away, when he pauses, a far better idea occurring to him. “He must be worried about you, Washington. Perhaps you should… _reassure_ him.”

He tightens his grip in Washington’s hair and yanks him up so that he’s on his knees, his back pressed tight to Locus’s chest. Washington lets out a noise of protest as Locus lifts the phone, and he realizes what’s about to happen. “No no no—don’t, Locus, _please_ —“

Locus smirks as he turns the phone on, pressing it tight to Washington’s ear.

“Hey, Tucker,” Washington says, and Locus grins as his voice comes out low and breathless. “Sorry, I—“

He cuts himself off as Locus turns the vibrator up, then tosses the remote aside. Washington thrashes in his grip, mouth opening and closing at the ceiling as he fights the moan building up in his chest. “W-what?” he finally manages, in response to whatever Tucker has asked him. “No…I’m, I’m, I’m fine, I’m…just….”

Locus presses his mouth flush to Washington’s other ear, grinning as Washington tries to control his breathing. “He’s worried about you, Washington,” he breathes, so quietly that Washington might almost miss it. “He’s worried, and here you are, allowing me to fuck you. What do you think he’d say if he could see you?”

“What?” Washington says to Tucker, his voice coming out strangled. “I didn’t hear….”

Locus sucks his earlobe into his mouth, the hand not keeping the phone pressed to Washington’s other ear wandering down his body. Washington’s head is leaned back on his shoulder as he pants silently up at the ceiling. “Tucker, don’t. I’m…I’m…fine, I’m just at the, um, the um, the gym….oh, _fuck_ ….”

His hips snap forward helplessly as Locus wraps a hand around the base of his cock, jerking his hand slowly upwards. Locus still can’t hear what Tucker is saying, but he can just faintly make out his voice, which has increased in obvious concern.

“No no,” Washington chokes out. “Tucker, _don’t_ , I’m fine—yes. I—Tucker, _no_. I’ll be…be..”

He trails off again as Locus jerks at him a little faster, hips pumping forward into Locus’s hand. “…be home soon,” he finishes. “Okay? I—yes. In like, um….two hours—I don’t know…fuck—just—soon. Okay. Okay, okay. Bye. Bye Tucker…”

Locus pulls the phone away from Washington’s ear with a grin, cutting off whatever Tucker is still saying and turning the volume off completely He lets go of Washington’s cock at once and shoves him forward. Washington lets out a noise of protest that is soon cut off as Locus slaps his ass again, hard. “I seem to remember telling you to count, Washington. Unless you’d like me to call your roommate back up so that he can listen as you beg for my cock.”

“Eleven,” Washington grits out between pants. “Eleven…”

Locus continues to fifteen before he stops, turning off the vibrator and swinging himself off the couch to get a good look at Washington. He kneels down by his head once more, rewarding him with a long kiss that Washington moans into. “Very good, Washington. _Very_ good.”

Washington watches Locus with heavy-lidded eyes as he pulls back, his mouth hanging open. “Please,” he manages. “ _Please_ ….”

He turns his head briefly to suck two of Locus’s fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them. Locus allows him this for a time, his other hand rubbing up and down Washington’s back. “Look at you,” he says softly. “You’re so desperate you’ll take anything I give you. Won’t you, Washington?”

Washington nods frantically, moving his mouth to suck on Locus’s other fingers. “I must admit, you took your punishment very well,” Locus says. He withdraws his fingers from Washington’s mouth, wiping them off on his cheek, “but I’m not sure it’s enough.”

He makes sure to watch Washington’s face as he says it, relishing the way his eyes widen. “W-what?”

Locus kisses his cheek and smiles. “I need some time to think,” he says, “to think about if I want to grant you your release or not.”

Washington begins to squirm, wrists rotating frantically where they’re bound in Locus’s belt. “Oh—oh, Locus please, _please_ , I can’t—I _need_ to, _please_ —“

“I will leave you here for a time,” Locus says, cutting him off. “While I think about if you deserve it or not. You’ve been very bad, Washington. You know this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Washington gasps, “Yes I do, and I’m sorry, I’m _sorry_ —“

But Locus is already standing, reaching for the ball gag. Washington begins to thrash when he sees it, tossing his head from side to side even as Locus catches him by the hair. “Sometimes, Washington,” he murmurs softly into his ear, “sorry isn’t good enough.”

“Locus— _Locus don’t,_ Locus please, _please_ —!”

Washington’s words are cut off as Locus forces the ball gag into his mouth, buckling it tightly behind his head. Locus reaches around his hips to palm his cock, but doesn’t move his hand. “I suggest you do some thinking well” Locus whispers, “on whether you deserve to come or not.”

He pulls away, clicking the vibrator to its highest setting once more, and turns to leave the room.

Washington screams through the gag, his hips dropping down immediately to the couch. Locus lets him, knowing that it won’t matter anyway—Washington has never been able to come like that. He needs a firm hand or a warm mouth on his cock in order to bring him to his orgasm, neither of which Locus is prepared to grant him anytime soon. He lingers for a moment in the doorway to watch Washington thrash on the couch, his cock achingly hard, the thick vibrator poking out from between his spread cheeks. He catches Locus’s gaze, eyes wide and desperate, trying to plead around the gag. “One more thing, Washington,” Locus says. He waits until he is sure Washington is listening before continuing. “If I come back and found you have left this couch, you will _certainly_ regret it.”

And with a final smirk, Locus leaves the room.

Washington’s moans only increase in volume as Locus vanishes from sight. Locus remains in the hallway for several minutes to listen to the sounds of his struggles and broken sobs. He is hardening again himself, at the thought of how desperately Washington wants him, at how he’s still trying to beg. Locus takes his cock in his hand, giving himself a few strokes to take the edge off, but doesn’t push it any further than that. Perhaps he will give Washington his cock again after all. It had, after all, been a long two months, and he’s missed this, missed Washington going to pieces underneath him.

Not yet, though.

Locus takes his time returning to Washington. He takes a shower—a pointless task, if he decides to fuck Washington again after, but the thought of Washington’s despair when he hears the shower turn on, when it sinks in just how long Locus may leave him there, is too exciting to resist. Sure enough, when he turns the water off, he can hear Washington’s insistent moans through the walls. Delightful.

He pokes his head back into the living room when he has finished, to towel off. Washington is still on his stomach, hips snapping down frantically against the couch, breath coming out in little huffs. Washington lifts his head when he spots Locus, trying to speak, and Locus tilts his head mockingly. “I can’t understand you. Is there something you _want?"_

Washington struggles harder, to no avail. He makes it too easy, really, and Locus has to bite back a grin. Locus removes the towel from his waist to rub at his hair, and Washington’s eyes flick hungrily to his erect cock. “Perhaps if you _tell_ me what you want, Washington, I can give it to you.”

Washington begins to rub his face against the couch, trying to get the ball gag off, and Locus laughs. He turns to leave the room, still chuckling, as Washington screams in frustration. Locus fetches a pair of pajama bottoms, puts them on, and returns to the living room several minutes later to sit in a chair near the couch where Washington is thrashing. He ignores Washington’s cries completely, pulls out a book, and begins to read.

The minutes tick by and it’s wonderful, enjoying a bit of quiet time to himself with Washington bound and gagged on his couch, hard and desperate and ready for Locus to return to whenever he pleases. As he should be, always. Washington’s little whimpers and moans, coupled with the way he shifts ceaselessly on the couch and the sound of the vibrator, are the perfect background noises.

Locus reads several chapters before he finally sets his book down, glancing over to the couch. Washington is on his back now with his arms trapped underneath him, hips pumping up slowly into the air, eyes wet and trained pleadingly on Locus. The vibrator hums incessantly in his ass, and his moans are now resigned and desperate.

Locus stands, switching the vibrator off, and Washington wilts back into the couch in relief. His stomach and thighs are smeared with precum, cock red and swollen, and Locus trails a single finger up it. “Have you learned your lesson, Washington?”

Washington nods his head quickly, looking up at Locus eagerly. Locus does not remove the gag, continuing to watch Washington thoughtfully, and eventually he leans in closer so that he’s hovering over Washington, one hand on either side of his chest.

“The next time I call you,” Locus says lowly. “You will come to me. You will come immediately, and you will get down on your knees and wait for me to take you however I please. Is that understood?”

Washington nods frantically, trying to promise around the gag. Locus smiles, easing the vibrator out of his ass and placing it aside. He gives the ball gag a tap. “This stays on. I’ve had enough of your complaining for one night. If you want my cock, you’ll take it with no complaints.”

Washington moans in relief as Locus reaches for the condoms, sliding one onto his own dick. He spreads his legs eagerly as Locus kneels in between them, looking up at him gratefully. Locus rubs his cock against Washington’s asshole, one of his hands going to Washington’s throat to jerk his chin up. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

A series of moans and nods, and Locus thrusts in. Washington’s body bucks beneath his, head slamming back into the couch. Locus keeps one of his hands wrapped around Washington’s neck, the other slowly making its descent down Washington’s body towards his cock. He wraps his hand around the base, beginning to jerk Washington off slowly, and Washington sobs in relief.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Locus says softly. He bends over Washington slightly, putting more of his weight into the hand at Washington’s throat. Not enough to cut off his air, but enough to let Washington know he _could_ , if he wanted. Washington’s hips move eagerly underneath his own, fucking himself down onto Locus’s cock and up into the hand wrapped around him. “This is where you belong, Washington. You know that, right?”

When Washington doesn’t respond right away, Locus ceases in his movements, and Washington nods at once. “Good. You’re mine. Look at you, taking my cock so well. Do your friends know what a slut you are, Washington? What do you think they’d say if they knew you spent the night here, whining and crying for me? Unable to think about anything except how badly you wanted this, wanted _me_ , because you’re mine, mine, _mine_ —“

Washington comes hard, spurting thick and hot over Locus’s hand and painting both of their chests white, his scream just barely muffled by the gag. He thrashes beneath Locus, humping up eagerly into his hand, head tossed, eyes rolling back. Beautiful. Locus isn’t far behind, leaning forward to bury his face in Washington’s hair as he comes. He keeps his hand wrapped around Washington’s cock until they have both finished, the movement of their hips stilling.

He remains inside Washington until he is no longer hard, breathing in the scent of his hair, listening to Washington’s heart pound beneath his own. Washington says nothing and makes no attempt to move, just lies still beneath Locus and shakes and shakes.

Locus finally pulls out of him with a contented sigh, pushing himself up on both hands to examine Wash. His face is flushed and streaked with tears, chest sweaty and slick with his own cum. He does not struggle as Locus pushes himself to a stand, makes no move to try to loosen his bonds. Washington simply lays there, watching Locus towel himself off. There’s a heaviness to his limbs that Locus knows well, a satedness he has seen in Washington’s body many times, but there is resignation, too: the knowledge that he will remain bound on the couch until Locus decides to release him.

There is, deep in Washington’s eyes, the understanding that he belongs to Locus once more.

Locus takes his time getting dressed, watching Washington thoughtfully all the while. For a moment, just a moment, he allows himself to consider keeping Washington here for good. Keeping him restrained, extending the punishment until the thought of leaving never crossed his mind again. Temping, but…he had pushed Washington too far last time, and had lost him. Far better for Washington to realize on his own that his place was with Locus.

Locus sits on the edge of the couch, stroking Washington’s cheek tenderly before reaching around to unclip the ball gag. Washington gasps, working his jaw, and Locus runs his thumb along Washington’s swollen bottom lip. “Did you enjoy yourself, Washington?”

“Yes,” Washington says, his voice coming out hoarse. “Sir,” he adds quickly, when Locus’s eyes narrow.

Locus lets it go, but still makes no move to untie him. He drops a kiss to Washington’s forehead before reaching down to grab his softening cock. Wash cries out, startled, trying to buck into him and pull away at once, but Locus holds him fast. “No one else can make you come like me. Can they?”

“No, sir,” Washington chokes out. He writhes as Locus begins to stroke him roughly. “N-no one…”

“Say it.”

“No one can make me come like you,” Washington blurts. He squeezes his eyes shut, whimpering against the overstimulation, but snaps them back open when Locus slaps roughly at his cheek.

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“You…I…I belong to you, sir.”

Locus smiles, slowing the motion of his hand, but not yet releasing Washington’s cock. “And the next time I call you, what are you going to do?”

“I’m…I’m going to come here,” Washington says, hastening to continue when Locus raises an eyebrow. “I’m going to come here, and get on my knees and let you do…whatever you want.”

Something flickers in the back of Washington’s gaze, something like shame, as he squirms. Locus does not begrudge him that: it is good for Washington to remember what he is, and that no one else would ever want him if they knew.

Locus releases his cock, and Washington groans in relief, hips wilting back down to the coach. “I think it would be best,” Locus says softly, “if we were to keep our continued relations… _private_ , for now. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir.”

Locus narrows his eyes, leaning closer so that he looms in Washington’s vision. “I mean it, Washington. You will not tell anyone about this, or about anything we do after. When you leave tonight, you will lie to your roommate about where you have been. Do I make myself clear?”

When Washington hesitates, Locus grabs him firmly by the chin, just at the base of his throat, squeezing slightly, harder than he did before. Panic flickers in his eyes, and Locus feels something stir low in his groin at the sight. “If you do,” he growls, “if you do tell anyone, I will _make sure_ you regret it. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Washington says quietly. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Locus lets go with a smile. “Good boy.”

He lifts Washington’s shoulders off the couch, reaching behind him to uncuff the belt. Washington’s wrists are red and raw from where he struggled against the leather, and Locus smirks at the sight. They will be difficult to hide or explain away in the middle of the summer. Washington groans in relief as Locus pulls his arms to the front of his body, gently pushing him back down on the coach. He retrieves his towel, wiping off Washington’s chest and stomach with one hand, and tenderly strokes his hair with the other. “This is getting long,” he tells Washington, “you know I like it shorter.”

“Oh,” Washington says, startled. “Oh, I’ll…I can cut it.”

“Good. That would please me.”

Washington nods, head pressing into Locus’s palm as he resumes running his fingers through his hair. They are quiet for a while, a careful stillness settling into Washington’s body, until Locus stands. “You may go, Washington.” He bends down, fishing Washington’s phone out from where he’d tossed it on silent mode after the phone call. A smirk crosses his face as he looks down at the screen now, and he angles it for Washington to see. “We wouldn’t want to worry your roommate further.”

Washington’s eyes widen as he sits up and glances at the screen—seven missed calls—and he makes a motion as if he’s going to grab for the phone before he thinks better of it, hand falling into his lap. “I…” he swallows hard. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

Locus smiles, handing the phone to him. “I am pleased to hear you say that, Washington…but I think it would be best.” All he needs is the police pounding down his door again. “Go. I will call you. You will answer.”

“I will.” Washington’s eyes flick towards the hallway, in the direction of Locus’s shower. “I should—can I shower first?”

“No,” Locus says simply. “You will return to your apartment as you are.”

Washington sets his jaw and nods, climbing to a shaky stand. He dresses quickly, and when he has finished, Locus grabs him by the shirt, yanking him in for a final, bruising kiss. “I will see you again soon, Washington.”

“Yeah,” Washington breathes. Locus hears him swallow hard as he presses a soft kiss to the side of his neck. “I’ll see you.”

He releases Washington, stepping aside to let him out the door. Locus watches out of the living room window as Washington pulls up a number on his phone. No doubt calling up his insufferable roommate, to reassure him that he is alright. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the thought of Washington spending the night elsewhere, particularly in the apartment he shares with Lavernius Tucker.

But no matter. Locus is the one that Washington spent the evening begging for, the one that he submitted to. Besides, he will come back.

Washington will always come back.


End file.
